


illicit longing

by wysteriagrove



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hogwarts, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:01:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 17,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26497564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wysteriagrove/pseuds/wysteriagrove
Summary: Freya Eadylin was always in the shadows. She was left behind on all the adventures, shoved aside when it mattered most. It was only in her fourth year at Hogwarts when she found herself pulled from the darkness. Everything was going perfectly well, until the world went sideways and everything she'd known slipped away.
Relationships: Cedric Diggory/Original Female Character(s), Draco Malfoy/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 18





	1. Before

Freya Eadylin awoke on the morning of her eleventh birthday full of anticipation. Her mother had always told her the story of the day she got her letter when she was younger and Freya couldn’t wait. She lay in bed for a moment, taking a deep breath and preparing herself for disappointment. Her father was a muggle, after all. Freya couldn’t help it anymore. She threw off the covers and ran downstairs, stomping loudly down the carpeted stairs. 

Her parents smiled at her from the dining table. Her mother was sipping a cup of earl grey, as she always did in the morning. Her father was reading a muggle newspaper, his square glasses on the edge of his nose.

Freya’s mum stood up and opened her arms for a hug. “Happy birthday, Freya!”  
Freya barreled into her mum’s arms and squeezed, excitement coursing through her body. “Is it here yet?”

Her father smiled from his newspaper. “Not yet, darling, but your mother will take you to Diagon Alley as soon as it comes and go on a trip to get your school things and a birthday gift.” 

Freya grinned. She was about to tell her parents what wand core she hoped to get before the metal sound of the mail slot made her dash to it. 

Freya looked through the pile of mail. She sorted through the bills and coupons before reaching an elegant letter with a dark red seal. “Mum!” she yelled and ran back to the kitchen. “Mum I got it!” 

~~~ 

A cold breeze rocked the boat as Freya climbed into one behind her new friend Hermione. Moments later, the girls were staring open-mouthed at the huge castle in front of them. The towers and halls had rendered Freya speechless. She turned to Hermione. They both looked at each other and smiled wide. 

Later, they were discussing which house they preferred to be sorted into (Ravenclaw or Gryffindor, they concluded) before the moment that would determine whether or not they would spend their time at Hogwarts together. 

The conversation was rudely interrupted by Draco Malfoy trying to be friends with Harry Potter, who Hermione and Freya had already run into while trying to help Neville Longbottom find his toad. From the look on Malfoy’s face, Potter had probably said something insulting or Ron Weasley did or both. Hermione and Freya just giggled. 

Finally, a tall, stern looking woman who introduced herself as Professor McGonagall lead them into the Great Hall to be sorted. Freya bumped into Hermione multiple times while looking up at the mesmerizing star flecked ceiling and the floating candles. 

Freya didn’t have to wait long to be sorted, as her name came early in alphabetical order. She sat on the stool nervously as Professor McGonagall placed the ratty Sorting Hat on her brown hair. "Hmmmm...very cunning...yet very brave, even if it doesn’t show…" Freya didn’t know what to make of what the hat whispered into her ear. "I know where you’ll go...Better be…GRYFFINDOR!” 

Freya smiled timidly as she slipped off the stool and went to sit at the Gryffindor table. She wasn’t feeling very brave in the moment, but the Sorting Hat knew best...right? 

She clapped as Hermione along with Harry and Ron were sorted into Gryffindor. She said hello to Neville, who looked as if he might throw up, and introduced herself to Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, Lavender Brown, and Parvati Patel. 

Hermione began rattling off facts about their new House that she had read from Hogwarts: A History. Freya asked eagerly if she could borrow, determined to learn more about her new home. 

It was much later, lying in her four-poster bed, surrounded by crimson and gold, that the homesickness started to set in. She missed the smell of home, her mother’s warm hug each night before bed, playing cards with her father in front of the television. She brushed away the tears before falling asleep. 

~~~ 

Freya searched for Hermione for ages before finally having to head down to the Halloween feast. Last she saw her, she ran away crying because of something horrible Harry and Ron said about her. She hoped her friend was okay. 

She sat at the wooden bench next to Dean, refusing to make eye contact with the two boys. She didn’t have an appetite for the humongous amount of food before her, she was just worried about her friend. 

She only snapped out of her daze when Professor Quirell ran into the Great Hall, shouting about a troll in the dungeon. The students burst into panic. Ron was wide eyed and screaming, a drumstick in one hand. 

Dumbledore got everyone to quiet down and ordered the prefects to get everyone back to the dormitories. Freya wondered what would happen to the Slytherins, since their dorms were in the dungeons but she pushed the thought from her mind. Harry whispered something to Ron and they ran in the other direction. She shrugged it off and followed Percy Weasley up to the Gryffindor tower, hoping Hermione was already there. 

It was only later that she learned that Harry and Ron went to save Hermione. Freya felt guilty for not having the same idea to save her friend. 

Ron, Harry, and Hermione grew inseparable after that. Hermione did her best to include Freya, but it was obvious that she was the fourth wheel of the golden trio. 

At the end of their first year, she was left behind while they disappeared for hours after curfew. She paced the common room nervously and only when she went to visit the hospital wing, did she find out what they did. She should have been happy that they had just defeated the Dark Lord, but instead, she was feeling angry and bitter that they left her behind. She could have helped. But she guessed they just didn’t need her anymore. 

~~~ 

A year later, Freya sat at the Gryffindor table as Hermione ran through the Great Hall to run into Harry’s arms after he found the Chamber of Secrets. Tears burned in her eyes but she knew they shouldn’t. This shouldn’t matter to her. They were her friends. 

~~~ 

At the end of their third year, it was the same thing, except this time, Freya didn’t know what adventure they had gone on. Harry and Hermione grinned like maniacs and talked about Hagrid’s escaped hippogriff and patronuses while Ron followed along. Freya tried to include herself in the discussion before deciding it wasn’t worth it. 

She was the spare, the extra. And she had to get used to it.


	2. The Eve

Light filtered through the browning leaves of the old oak tree in the courtyard, glitching on the pages of my open book. The large tomb was too heavy to sit in my lap so I put it on the stone bench, leaning over it with one leg folded in and one hanging off the bench. My brown hair fell down the side as I focused, blurring out the world around me. 

I didn’t notice when the chilly air closed in, a reminder of the bitter autumn in the Scotland countryside. The pages of the book fluttered in the breeze. I didn’t notice Hermione sit down next to me, a smile plastered on her face, a slight blush creeping up. She tapped my shoulder once. Twice. On the third, I finally noticed and looked up, slightly annoyed by the distraction. 

“What?” I finally said, ripping my eyes from the text. 

Hermione grinned and smacked my arm. “How can you even read right now? Everyone is so excited for tomorrow, I don’t know how you can contain it.” 

I rolled my eyes. “I thought you didn’t care about this stuff.” I looked at her for a moment, realization setting in. “Ohhh. Did Viktor Krum happen to enter?” 

Hermione’s blush deepened. “Maybe.” She smiled a bit then squared her shoulders. “It doesn’t matter.” 

I turned back to my book. “Sure.” 

Hermione stood. “You should probably go put your book away, we have Transfiguration soon.” 

I glance up at the large clocktower that looms over the courtyard. “Ah shit. I’ll see you there.” 

Quickly closing the book, careful to put in a bookmark, I heave it into my arms. I pick up my leather satchel and head up to Gryffindor Tower to put it away before Transfiguration. As the cold wind billows, I duck into the crowded corridor. I catch bits and pieces of conversation as I pass by. The students are buzzing about the Goblet of Fire drawing tomorrow and gossip about the prospective champions and what the trials might be. 

I trudge up the moving stairs, still carrying the large book. I spot approaching students and carefully move to the side. I look down as the group of Slytherins pass, making sure to be invisible as possible. It doesn’t work. 

Draco Malfoy clearly decided that I would be his victim for today. His lips turned into an infuriating smirk as he swiveled towards me. His hair was meticulously messy, as if he had to make an effort to show that he doesn’t make an effort and his jumper is carelessly untucked. His posse trailed behind him. Crabbe was carrying Malfoy’s books and Pansy Parkinson was gripping onto his arm as if he might fly away into one of the many portraits on the walls. 

I wished I could fall through the floor and disappear forever. Harry might be good at facing Malfoy but I sure wasn’t. 

He got up in my face. “Where’re you going, Eadylin?” he drawled. “Putting away your books? What? Is being a nasty half-blood too much for you that you have to read for company?” 

Yes, I wanted to tell him. I used books as a way to escape my terrible social life, but I didn’t need Malfoy to know that. Instead, I muttered, “Mind your own business.” 

He laughed. “I don’t think so. See, you half-bloods think you have the right to the same things us pure-bloods do. But you obviously don’t. You have your filthy father’s blood to prove that.” 

My face turned the same shade of red as my tie. “Don’t you dare say anything about my father,” I whispered. 

“What was that?” he taunted. 

“I said,” I raised my voice as I drew my wand, “don’t you dare say anything about my father, you pathetic little git.” My wand was now digging into his neck threateningly. I wouldn’t have hesitated to hex him. 

His eyes narrowed and looked down at the wand. “Whatever.” He stepped away and motioned for his gang to leave. 

Suddenly, the staircase began to shift, jerking everyone to one side of the staircase. Malfoy toppled onto me, breaking from his annoyingly casual slouch. 

He pressed into me for a moment before I promptly shoved him off. “Gross,” I muttered. 

Malfoy brushed off his robe and sneered as he moved forward. Pansy shoved me to the side and she passed by. 

I rolled my eyes and picked up my book. I climbed the rest of the staircase and finally reached the Fat Lady. “Balderdash.” 

She smiled warmly at me and swung open, revealing the scarlet tapestry covered room. 

I squeezed through the entrance and stepped into the common room. Dean and Seamus were sitting by the fire, chatting about Quiddich. Fred and George sat at a wooden table, experimenting with something that looked like greenish slime. I headed to the staircase leading up to the girls’ dormitories, still carrying the massive book. I was really starting to regret borrowing this one rather than a small novel. 

I opened the door to my shared room and finally put the book on my messy covers. I wished I could stay there forever and not go to Transfiguration but my grade was struggling enough so I pulled myself down the dormitory steps. 

I turned towards the fireplace. “Dean, Seamus.” 

They broke off their conversation and looked at me. “Yeah?” Dean asked. 

“Transfiguration.” 

They started scrambling for their robes. “Ah shit.” 

The three of us ran out the common room and down the steps towards the Transfiguration classroom. We knew McGonagall would have our heads if we didn’t come on time. We stepped into the arched classroom at the last moment, heaving and breathless. McGonagall gave us a look but said nothing. I sat down next to Hermione behind Harry and Ron and took out my textbook and wand. 

However, just as Professor McGonagall was about to begin the lesson, a loud sound was heard from the back of the classroom. Malfoy strolled in nonchalantly and sat down at a desk, grinning like a maniac. He leaned back in the wooden chair casually, not taking out his wand or textbook as the chalkboard had instructed. 

The professor turned to him, a pleasant but rigid smile on her face. “Ten points from Slytherin, Mr. Malfoy.” 

He shrugged and finally took out his textbook. He flipped through to the assigned chapter. 

Professor McGonagall turned away stiffly and began to teach the lesson. She lectured for a part of the class on changing a hedgehog to a pincushion before giving us our own to practice. 

I pointed at my hedgehog and practiced the spell. Once. Twice. The hedgehog stayed there, snoring. I glanced at Hermione’s next to me. A perfect pincushion sat where her hedgehog used to be. She flipped through her textbook, browsing other spells since she had already mastered this one. 

I looked up, exasperated. A paper crane fluttered towards me lightly. I caught it midair and unfolded it. There was a moving drawing of my hedgehog attacking me and signed with the initials DM. It was pretty clear who it was from. 

Unexpected anger boiled within me. I stood up from my desk and walked to Malfoy’s. “Please,” I said in a surprisingly calm tone. “Leave me the fuck alone.” I restrained myself from slapping him. For McGonagall’s sake. 

He looked up with a smirk. “No thanks. I think you deserve this.” 

I turned around furiously. “Then I suggest you shut the fuck up, you inbreeding twig.” 

He stood up quickly, nearly knocking his chair over. “Say that to me again, you half-blood filth.” 

I got up in his face, my earlier timidness gone. “I said, shut the fuck up.” I paused. “You inbreeding piece of shit.” 

I turned to walk away before I stopped in my tracks. The classroom was dead quiet and staring at me. 

McGonagall looked at me disappointed over her spectacles. “Detention, Ms. Eadylin. You too, Mr. Malfoy.” 

I walked confidently back to my desk. I regretted none of what just happened, even if I had to spend detention with Malfoy. 

~~~ 

I waited outside the Transfiguration classroom that evening. I hoped that I would have to interact with Malfoy as little as possible but my luck had run dry. 

He was leaning against the wall, fiddling with his wand. “Freya,” he said as a greeting. He used my first name for once. 

“Malfoy,” I said in response. 

He opened his mouth, probably to insult me, before he was interrupted by McGonagall. 

“Mr. Malfoy and Ms. Eadylin. Please come in.” 

Malfoy shoved in front of me to go in first as if that represented his superiority.

I rolled my eyes and walked in after him. There were two piles of feathers on two separate desks. Far away from each other. McGonagall knew what she was doing. 

Malfoy claimed the desk in the back. 

“You are to sort these feathers for the first years in Charms without the use of magic,” McGonagall told us. “I’ll be back in two hours.” 

I sighed and sat down, my back facing Malfoy. I began sorting the feathers, creating different piles for brown, white, black, and miscellaneous. The task was grueling and annoying, taking more effort than it should. When I was finally finished, I turned around to see how much progress Malfoy had made. His feathers remained untouched, still in a messy pile. 

He caught me looking. “Oi! Like what you see, Eadylin?” he grinned. 

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever you want to say, keep it to yourself.” 

He hooted. “Sorry, I don’t listen to half-bloods.” 

I promptly ignored him. 

“What happened to your daddy anyways, Freya? Did he die? Did the poor little muggle die?” he taunted. 

I turned to face him. “Focus on your own daddy issues before you deal with other people’s, Malfoy.” 

His face twisted. “Whatever.” He went towards the door, reaching out a hand to mess up my carefully curated piles of feathers. 

I stared appalled at my ruined work. “Fuck you, Malfoy.” 

He cackled. “You wish.” 

I began drawing my wand as McGonagall walked in. She looked at the two piles of unsorted feathers. “You two, go off to bed. You’ll continue two nights from now.” 

Another evening wasted because of Malfoy. Great. 

I left the classroom after Malfoy, turning the opposite direction at him to get back to the dormitories. 

Boiling hot hatred burned within me. I hoped he would stay far away from me for as long as possible.


	3. The Drawing

The Great Hall was filled to the brim with students and Ministry officials. Many had traveled to Hogwarts to view the drawing of the Goblet of Fire, eager to find out who would be a Champion. The Hall itself was decorated for Halloween, as per usual. And while the floating candles were replaced with festive pumpkins, the focus was on the blue flame in the center of the room, a faint, glowing line surrounding it. 

I caught Hermione blushing at the Slytherin table, where Viktor Krum was. I nudged her jokingly and she blushed harder. Ron looked at her, his face a bit sour. I ignored it. 

My back was turned to the Hufflepuff table. As I was talking with Hermione, Cedric Diggory hugged me from behind, draping his arms over my shoulders. I turned around with a smile. “Cedric!” 

He grinned back. Cedric was an old family friend. Our mothers were best friends before his passed away. We had gotten much closer after her death; it was like we both lost a mother that night. 

He tugged on my braid. “Freya.” 

I turned on the bench so my knees touched his. “How are you? Are you nervous?” He had told me he entered the tournament a couple days ago. 

He shrugged. “I mean, yeah. But, I’m definitely not the only person who entered. Probably won’t be me.” 

I patted his knee. “Even if it is you, you’ll do great.” 

He smiled warmly at me and turned back to his crowd of friends and I went back to my own. 

I stirred my food with my fork. My appetite dissipated and was replaced with worry. 

Hermione looked at me as if wanting to ask if I was okay. She opened her mouth right as Dumbledore boomed from his stand. 

The Great Hall was immediately silenced. The tension filled the packed room. Everyone from Barty Crouch to Neville Longbottom was on the edge of their seat. 

Dumbledore walked past the Age Line to the Goblet. The only sound was the growing crackling of the fire, expanding and convulsing before releasing a singular piece of charred parchment. Dumbledore snatched it from the air. “Viktor Krum is the Durmstrang champion!” 

Everyone erupted in cheers. I wasn’t surprised, he seemed like the type who would do well in this tournament. 

The blue flames swirled again, and shot out an elegant coffee filter, clearly a student from Beauxbatons. “Fleur Delacour!” 

A beautiful, white blond witch smirked knowingly and stood from the Ravenclaw table and practically floated to the room where the champions gathered. Her robin’s egg-blue robe fluttered behind her as she entered the room. 

When the cheers quieted back to anticipating silence, the Goblet sputtered once more to reveal the Hogwarts champion. Another slip of paper emerged from the flames, which Dumbledore caught. “Cedric Diggory!” 

My stomach dropped. No. Anyone but him. I blinked back the tears and forced a smile onto my face and started to cheer for him. 

His friends clapped him on the back as he stood, charm and charisma pouring from his elated smile. He looked at me and winked before excitedly bounding up to the staff table and shaking Dumbledore’s hand. He disappeared into the room to join Krum and Fleur. 

“That’s it!” the headmaster boomed. “Thank you all!” He smiled knowingly as he always does before swishing his pink velvet robes to leave. A sudden collective gasp rose from the students. The Goblet of Fire had turned a troubling shade of red, the fire growing dangerously large. Dumbledore looked alarmed. In a last hurrah of heat, it spit out a piece of paper. Every eye followed it as it floated down gently before being caught in Dumbledore’s spindly hand. 

“Harry Potter.” 

I turned to my friend, sitting across from me. He looked dumbfounded and shocked. He stayed rooted to his seat. 

“Harry Potter!” Dumbledore bellowed. 

Hermione reached over and pulled him up. “C’mon, Harry.” 

He looked around nervously. Everyone was silently staring at him as he walked past the headmaster and went into the room. 

The moment he left, chatter erupted. We were told to go back to our dormitories immediately. The staff all went into the same room as the champions, no doubt to inquire Harry on how he entered the tournament. 

Ron grumbled all the way up to the Gryffindor Tower, mumbling about how unfair it was. Hermione and I ignored him. I was still processing what it meant for Cedric to be in the tournament. 

The three of us decided to wait in the common room until Harry showed up. I curled up on one of the armchairs with a novel. Hermione was working on her Potions essay and Ron was fiddling with his wand, staring silently at the crackling fire, his mind wandering. Harry never came and around midnight, Hermione and I decided to go to bed. Ron stayed where he was, frustrated and discontent. 

~~~ 

The next evening, I was sitting in the Transfiguration classroom with Draco Malfoy. He finally got his shit together and sorted through his feathers correctly, clearly doing his best to avoid another wasted night in detention. 

I put my own feathers in the same organized piles I had last time before Malfoy messed them up. As I was putting down a tawny feather, he decided to open his annoying mouth. 

“Oi, Eadylin!” he started. “How did Potter get his name in the Goblet? Not that I mind, I’ll be happy when he’s ripped into shreds. I doubt he’ll even last five minutes of the first task.” 

I turned in my seat to face him. “Shut up, Malfoy.” 

He ignored me and continued. “What? Is he your boyfriend? Aw how perfect.” 

“Why? Is Pansy yours?” 

His face turned bright red. “No.” 

I turned back to my feathers. “You should let her know then.” 

He was about to retort when McGonagall walked back into the classroom. “Mr. Malfoy, may I please have a moment?” 

Malfoy nodded, his face even paler than usual. 

I began to pack up my things, sensing that it was a private conversation. 

However, Professor McGonagall motioned for me to stay. “Mr. Malfoy, it is safe to say that your grade in my class are, to put it nicely, dismal. Therefore, to assist you with them, I would like Ms. Eadylin to tutor you in the subject.” 

Draco and I began protesting at the same time. “Absolutely not,” I told her while he was shaking his head furiously. 

“Ms. Eadylin, you will receive extra credit while you, Mr. Malfoy, will receive… credit.” 

We both reluctantly agreed and nodded. 

“Excellent. Now please, return to your dormitories, you’re done with detention for now.” She waved us off and left the classroom. 

I left immediately after, not in the mood for Malfoy’s usual snide remarks. This is going to be an interesting semester.


	4. The In-between

The slight breeze ruffled the pages of my book on the Black Lake. Neville was standing in the water, about knee deep. He reached into the murky liquid to retrieve another magical plant to examine. Harry was sitting opposite of me, reading a textbook. After his apparent row with Ron, he distanced himself from his friend and opted to be with other people beyond the trio, which meant I was currently one of his best friends. 

He flipped the page aggressively. 

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you okay?” 

He shook his head. “How am I supposed to prepare for a task if I don’t even know what it is?” he said, slamming the textbook shut and buried further into his coat, sticking his hands firmly in his pockets. 

I reached over and patted his arm. “You’ll figure it out, Harry, I’m sure something will come up.” 

A sloshing sound was heard from Neville’s direction as he pulled up a moss-like plant that wiggled around slightly in his hand. He nearly fell over as it ran along his arm, leaving a slimy residue. For once, he managed not to be extremely clumsy and shook it off his hand. He stabilized himself on the slippery rocks and reached down once again, the edge of his sleeve dipping slightly into the water. 

I let out a giggle. Harry’s furrowed eyebrows relaxed and he released his tense shoulders, as if the incident, which shouldn’t have even been that funny, suddenly made everything much better. 

We all went silent as the crunching off dry leaves approached, signaling that someone was coming. 

Ron, Hermione, and Ginny emerged from the trees. Ron hid behind his curtain of hair, whispering to an irritated Hermione while looking at Harry. Harry’s smile disappeared. 

They stopped a couple feet away. Ginny rolled her eyes at Ron’s dramatics and shared an apologetic look with Harry. Hermione finally broke away and walked towards Harry. 

She brushed a strand of hair from her eyes before telling Harry, “Parvati told Dean, who told Seamus, who told Lavender, who told Ron, who told me that Hagrid’s looking for you.” 

Harry was about to retort angrily but was replaced with confusion. “I—” he began but then tilted his head slightly. “What?” 

Hermione sighed. “Parvati told Dean who told… Please don’t make me say it again. Hagrid’s looking for you.” 

Harry seemed to have grasped the concept. “Well, you tell Ron—” 

“I’m not an owl!” Hermione responded, flicking her hair over her shoulder as she strode back to Ron and Ginny. Ron looked at Harry for a moment before turning away to follow Hermione. 

I could feel the irritation radiating from Harry. He remained silent as we left the Black Lake to return to the castle for supper. He didn’t touch his food. He mumbled a quick, “I’ve got to go,” before leaving the Great Hall, no doubt to find Hagrid. 

~~~ 

The grassy courtyard was crowded with students the next morning. It was the first day of decent weather in a while so everyone decided to be outside. The only thing that soured the day was the pins the adorned most students, rooting for Cedric and promptly insulting Harry in the process. 

Cedric decided not to wear the pin, thankfully, and instead encouraged others not to. 

His head was in my lap as I read. I occasionally ruffled his hair or looked above the pages when he talked to me. His other friends were there too, laughing and joking around. 

He reached up to take away my book in a moment where the plot was getting good. 

“Hey!” I said, reaching to get it back. 

He grinned. “I want to ask you something and I can’t when your nose is in your book.” 

I rolled my eyes and stopped grabbing for it. “What?” 

A flicker of sadness passed over his face. “What do you think of me being in the tournament? Like honestly, because I know you’re worried.” 

I sighed, the playfulness of before gone. “Of course I’m worried. I just hope you’ll be careful, I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you.” 

He blinked. “Of course I will, for you.” 

I smiled a bit. “For me?” 

He grinned in return. “Always.” 

He gave me back my book and I flipped to the page where I left off. He closed his eyes peacefully. My cheeks warmed as I tried to focus on my book again. I didn’t notice Harry approaching with clear intent in his stride. 

Only when Cedric sat up quickly did I look up. “Cedric, we need to talk,” Harry said. 

His friends pushed him around as he stood up. He looked back at me and winked. I felt a flutter in my stomach but ignored it. 

I sat there awkwardly now that Cedric wasn’t here. I stared down at the pages but they all mixed on the page. They blurred as they went in and out of focus, worry consuming my brain. Hagrid must have shown Harry something important about the first task yesterday, his voice was so urgent when he asked to speak to Cedric. 

They finally returned. Cedric’s face was deathly pale. He sat down next to me and looked down as if he was about to be sick. “Dragons,” he whispered. 

I gasped. “Are you serious?” 

He nodded. “Harry just told me.” 

I put my book back in my bag as quickly as possible. “I have to go talk to him,” I said, standing up. 

Cedric nodded. “Yeah, go.” 

I kneeled down to look him in the eye. “Hey, look at me.” 

He met my gaze. 

“We’ll figure it out,” I said, giving him a small smile. 

He nodded. “Thank you, Freya. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

I stood up and said goodbye before following Harry, who was talking to Ron furiously. 

Harry stormed away back into the courtyard. 

“Harry!” I called, walking briskly to catch up to him. 

He turned, still frustrated. “Hi, Freya,” he said. 

“I heard about the dragons,” I replied. 

He shrugged. “I’ll figure it out.” 

“I don’t doubt it but—” 

Just as I was about to offer my assistance, Malfoy’s voice was heard from the tree. “Why so tense, Potter? Afraid Diggory will steal your girlfriend?” he taunted. 

I furrowed my brow angrily. “Shut up, Malfoy.” 

He ignored me. “My father and I have a bet, you see. He thinks you won’t last ten minutes. I disagree, I don’t think you’ll last five.” 

Harry was clearly beyond over Malfoy’s insults. “Do you really think I give a crap, Malfoy?” 

Malfoy was speechless. 

Harry turned away. “Eat shit, Malfoy.” 

I turned to leave after him. 

I heard a ruffling sound behind us. Professor Moody wobbled over furiously. “Don’t you dare curse a wizard behind his back, you coward!” 

Harry and I turned around just in time to see the professor transfigure Malfoy into a white ferret, scrambling around as Moody flicked up his wand, sending him flying into the air. 

The courtyard was filled with laughter. I exchanged a glance with Cedric, who seemed fine now, laughing at Malfoy’s embarrassment. 

Moody sent the ferret all over the place. He laughed as he sent the ferret down Crabbe’s pants. The oaf did a little dance as the rodent slipped through, no doubt struggle and wiggling in a panic. 

Only when Professor McGonagall strode through the garden, noticing the ruckus, did the laughing slow. 

“Professor Moody!” she said. “What are you doing?” 

“Teaching,” he replies, still swinging Malfoy around. 

McGonagall looked appalled. “Is that a student?” 

“Maybe.” 

McGonagall’s face twisted into controlled anger. She calmly drew her wand and waved it. Draco turned back into human. He looked around and stood quickly, brushing off his robes. 

He looked at Moody furiously, backing away. “My father will hear about this!” 

The professor lost control again. “Is that a threat!” He yelled after him as Malfoy ran away. “I could tell you things about your father that will make your skin crawl!” He started hobbling after him. 

“Moody!” McGonagall said. “You never use transfiguration as a punishment. I’m assuming Dumbledore told you that.” 

Moody looked down like a scolded puppy. “He may have mentioned it.” 

The crowd dispersed and went back to their business. Malfoy was long gone by now but I looked forward to the next time I saw him. I would never let him live that down.


	5. A Moment of Life

The door to the empty classroom slammed shut as Malfoy sauntered in, dropped his black leather satchel on the floor, and sat in one of the stiff wooden chairs. He stretched out in it like a cat that had just woken up from its nap, extending his limbs before settling down and promptly ignoring me. 

I rolled my eyes. “Are you done?” 

“Hm?” he asked, even though he obviously heard me. 

“Take out your wand,” I instructed as I opened my textbook to the chapter on Vanishing Spells. 

He blinked in my direction before sighing and slowly taking out the materials. 

I decided on the way to the lesson that I would do my best not to murder Malfoy but now I was considering going back on my word. 

He drew out flipping to the correct page. “So… what are we doing?” 

“Vanishing spells.” 

He gawked. “But that’s literally the hardest one!” 

I shrugged. “Take it up with McGonagall, I didn’t want to be here in the first place.” 

“Fine.” 

I took out a piece of parchment and ripped it in half. I crunched each into a ball and placed them on the desk. 

I showed him how to hold the wand correctly. “Evanesco,” I said, demonstrating the incantation. I pointed at a crumpled piece of paper that was on the desk. It vanished, a sign that I did the spell correctly. 

Draco huffed and pointed at his own wand at his paper. “Evanesco,” he mumbled, as if he was above saying the spell correctly, as if his blood status would make the paper disappear at its own will. 

It was an hour before he finally decided to stop being annoying and got the spell right, the ball of paper vanishing from the desk without a trace. 

“Finally,” I said. I packed up my textbook and wand. “I’ll see you next week.” 

He nodded and grumbled a goodbye, clearly too tired to bother with insulting me. 

We left the classroom, each heading in opposite directions to our separate common rooms. I climbed the stairs to Gryffindor Tower quickly. I entered the common room with a bit of a huff. These lessons will be the death of me. 

~~~ 

I wrapped my red and gold scarf tighter around my neck. Snow drifted down as I walked with Harry and Hermione to Hogsmeade. Ron had decided to trail behind us, walking with Dean and Seamus like an awkward third wheel. 

My heels dug into the snow, my feet getting colder with each step. Finally, we reached the small village and ducked into the Three Broomsticks, unraveling ourselves from our many layers. We sat down at a table in a corner as close as possible to the fireplace. “

So,” Hermione said. “Have you figured out what to do for the first task?” 

Harry sighed. “I’m working on it.” 

Hermione shook her head. “You have to be prepared, Harry. This isn’t like last year, you know what’s coming.” 

And just like that, I was out of the conversation. I stood up to go up to the bar to get butterbeer. Hermione was still lecturing him as I left. 

I spotted Cedric walking in with his usual cluster of friends. His cheeks were pink from the cold and his group had a couple students from both Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, definitely signaling that that was the group to be around. Jealousy purred as he was talking to a Beauxbatons student, her silvery blonde hair twisted into elegant braids, a cloak hung around her shoulders, a soft blue delicately embroidered. 

I met his eyes as I waited at the bar for our drinks. His eyes lit up and he detached himself from the conversation with the French girl, weaving through the tables to me. 

“Hey,” I said as casually as possible. “Who’s that?” 

He glanced backwards. “Oh,” he said. “That’s just Camille.” 

I raised an eyebrow. “Just Camille?” I nudged him with my elbow. “C’mon, I know you better than that.” 

His face turned red. “It’s nothing like that. She’s just a friend.” 

“Sure,” I said, trying to joke around when in reality I wanted the rickety floor of the tavern to swallow her up. 

We were both silent for a moment, trying to avoid the subject. 

“So,” he finally said. “Are you busy today?” 

I glanced back at Harry and Hermione, who were still in deep conversation. “No, not exactly.” 

Cedric smiled. “Excellent.” He hesitated for a moment. “Would you like to spend the day with me?” 

“Of course, but…what about your other friends?” I nodded at the group of seventh years pushing together two tables so they could all sit together. Camille was glancing in our direction occasionally. 

He shrugged. “They can wait.” He ignored Camille’s stare. 

I felt unnaturally flustered around him. I nodded and told him I was going to get my coat. I walked back to Harry and Hermione and told them I would be leaving as I lifted my scarf and jacket from the chair. It took them a moment to realize I was there before they nodded and said goodbye. 

I wrapped my scarf around my neck as I walked back towards Cedric, who grinned at me and reached out his gloved hand to take my own. I felt Camille’s eyes bore into my back as I walked out of The Three Broomsticks with Cedric, bracing for the bitter cold. 

He gripped my hand as we walked down the street, his golden brown hair flaked with snow. 

“So have you figured out the first task yet?” I asked him, careful to broach the subject. 

He sighed. “Kind of.” He gripped my hand tightly as he pulled me into Honeydukes. The rows of candy were filled with people. He started towards the Sugar Quills, clearly avoiding the question. He took down a box and was intently studying the package, paying more attention that he should have. 

I snatched the box from him. 

“Hey!” he said, even though he obviously didn’t care. 

“Cedric,” I said. “What’s your plan?” 

He sighed. “Can we not do this right now? We can meet at the library tomorrow and work on it, okay? I just…I want today to be nice.” 

I nodded. “Sure.” 

“Thanks,” he smiled. He squeezed my hand twice before moving away from the Sugar Quills, pulling me along with him. We squeezed through the stacks of sweets and other students. 

He held my hand closer, pressing himself against me gently so we could get through. I was too distracted to notice Ron bump into me. 

“Hi,” he said, clearly not in the best mood. 

I plastered on a smile quickly. “Oh. Hey, Ron.” 

“Freya, I actually wanted to talk to you,” Ron said quickly, flicking a strand of flaming hair from his eyes. 

I hesitated. “Uh…” I exchanged a glance with Cedric, who nodded, signaling that I could if I wanted to. “Sure. Cedric, could you give us a moment?” 

He nodded and left to go to talk to Fleur Delacour, who had struck up a rather enthusiastic conversation with Bill Weasley on the other side of the store. 

“What?” I asked pointedly. 

He ran his fingers through his hair and started looking at the candy on the shelves. “So, uh…” he mumbled. “How are Harry and Hermione?” he said quickly, forcing the words out one by one. 

I raised an eyebrow. “They’re fine.” 

He heaved out a breath. “Okay…okay good.” 

I tossed my hair over my shoulder. “Why are you avoiding them?” I asked. 

He sighed. “I guess…you don’t know what it’s like, Freya,” he told me. “You don’t know what it’s like to be the youngest brother, cast aside. Nobody ever pays any attention to me and usually…usually I don’t care, you know? Like, I’m Harry Potter’s best friend, I should be used to this,” he laughed bitterly. “I thought this year would be different. But it’s not. Harry still gets everything. All the attention, all the wins.” Jealousy twinkled in his eye. I suspected this had something to do with Hermione. “And this year, he did it again, on purpose. I can’t…I’ve been through this so many times. Just for once, I don’t want to be the extra.” 

I was speechless. “I get it, Ron. I’m so sorry you feel that way. I’ve felt that way every year when you three don’t include me on anything, when you cast me aside. I don’t mean to make this about me, I truly don’t but…Harry didn’t put his name in the Goblet. So, next time you’re going to be all huffy, which we’re all entitled to be sometimes, try to remember why rather than just acting like a git to all of us.” I began walking away from him and towards Cedric. “And also,” I continued, turning towards him, “maybe consider how Hermione did nothing wrong and if you actually like her, and it’s pretty obvious you do, talk to her and be nice instead of acting like an asshole.” I left him behind and walked towards Cedric. I took his hand and laced his gloved fingers through mine. “Let’s go,” I said. 

He nodded and squeezed my hand. He said a quick goodbye to Fluer and Bill before leading me outside. “Can we just go back to Hogwarts?” I asked. 

“Of course,” he said. 

I leaned into him as we walked back towards the castle, savoring his warmth, his scent. And I felt myself falling.


	6. The First Task

Hermione and I walked together to the Quidditch stadium. It was about thirty minutes until the first task was to begin, meaning the way was crowded and loud. We hurried along the dirt and stone path, which clearly was not meant for the amount of people walking down. I was wrapped in a mixture of house colors, to support both Harry and Cedric. My red and gold knit hat smushed down my brown waves and the Hufflepuff scarf I borrowed from Cedric fluttered in the wind. 

Hermione asked me if I wanted to join her to the champions’ tent ahead of time to wish Harry good luck. I agreed immediately. If I was being honest with myself, a ball of dread was emerging in my stomach. I had prepared and practiced with Cedric constantly this week, but I couldn’t help but be nervous for the upcoming task. I couldn’t imagine what facing that dragon will be like. 

We swerved from the original path towards the small tent protruding from the side of the wooden stadium. The cheering and talking increased as we walked closer towards the location of the task. Hermione leaned slightly towards the heavy fabric of the tent. “Harry?,” she whispered, concerned. There was a small shuffle and a ripple against the fabric as he responded immediately. He sounded agitated and stressed. She took a shaky breath. I couldn’t imagine what it was like in there. The anticipation seemed to radiate from the tent. 

I turned away and whispered through the fabric wall like Hermione had. “Cedric?” 

I heard Harry say something loudly within the tent and I saw a ripple across the thick yellow fabric. I finally felt his presence through it. “Yeah. I’m right here,” he whispered back. 

The sound of his voice made the air woosh out of my lungs. I wanted to tell him not to do it, to leave this behind. But I didn’t. Instead, I decided to break my own moral code and rush through a flap in the tent and hug him tightly, knocking off the Gryffindor hat in the process. 

“Woah!” he said, stumbling back a bit by the force of my embrace but he squeezed me firmly. “What’s wrong?” he murmured into my hair. 

I let go of him slowly, as if he would float away the minute I released my grip on his arm. 

“Hey,” he said softly. “What is it?” 

“I’m so so worried about you,” I told him. Tears threatened to spill over. In the moment, Krum and Fleur standing awkwardly nearby blurred; Hermione bursting through the flap just as I had to hug Harry good luck had dissipated. It was just me and Cedric. And I was about to let him go do something that might get him killed. 

“I’ll be alright,” he murmured. “We practiced this a million times.” 

I looked up into his caring eyes. The love I had for him was practically bursting through my chest. My common sense slipped away as I reached up and ran my fingers through his soft golden brown hair, leaned upwards…and kissed him. I pressed my lips against his slowly. He wrapped his hands around my waist, pulling me towards him. The athletic fabric of his black and yellow jersey was cool against my heated skin. It was soft and sweet. The perfect first kiss, if a blinding white flash didn’t make us burst apart. 

Rita Skeeter strutted into the tent, dressed in a lime green, red feathered outfit. Her photographer sauntered behind her, a smug look on his face. A look of delight was plastered on her overly made up face. She gasped dramatically. “What a story!” 

Krum looked at her with such distaste, I wondered how Skeeter wasn’t cowering in a corner. 

She ignored him and looked at me and Hermione. “What a charming bunch! You two will make lovely headlines in the Prophet! Just think: ‘A Triwizard Love Story’!” She winked at me. 

Cedric gripped my waist tightly. “This is none of your business,” he told her firmly. 

Krum nodded. “This tent is for champions and friends only.” His gaze wandered slightly to Hermione, who was still standing rather close to Harry. 

Skeeter raised her over-penciled eyebrows. “No matter,” she replied with a smirk. “We got what we needed.” She gestured for her photographer to follow her as she flounced out of the tent right as Dumbledore, Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, and Barty Crouch walked in. 

“Champions, gather ‘round,” Dumbledore said. He looked around at them before his gaze settled on Hermione and I standing there awkwardly. “Ms. Granger, Ms. Eadylin, what are you doing here?” 

Hermione’s cheeks reddened. “Oh uh…” she glanced at me. “We were just leaving. Sorry.” 

I gave Cedric one last reassuring glance before slipping out after my friend. 

Moments later, I was sitting next to Dean, waving a Gryffindor pendant. Barty Crouch emerged from the champions’ tent. He pressed his wand against his throat. “Welcome!” his voice boomed. “To the first task of the Triwizard Tournament! The task each champion will face is difficult and grueling. We begin with the Durmstrang champion!” A dragon was pulled into the rocky landscape the usually grassy floor was transformed into. 

Krum emerged in his gray robes. A roar of support was heard from the Durmstrang stands. His task passed by in a blur and I was too nervous to pay any attention to Fluer’s victory. 

Finally, Barty Crouch announced the first Hogwarts champion. “Cedric Diggory!” 

Cedric walked out of the tent. The Swedish Short-Snout he picked snarled loudly and circled its golden egg protectively. Cedric slowly climbed down the rocks, making sure to seem as unthreatening as possible. His wand was still in his robe as he slipped a bit down the boulders, moving discreetly towards the egg. When the dragon seemed somewhat calmer, no thanks to the cheering crowd, which slowed the process exponentially. It seems like his usual cluster of friends didn’t understand what a tactic was and how the dragon curled closer to the egg whenever a loud sound came from the stands. 

Cedric finally reached into his yellow and black robe and pulled out his wand with caution. Pointing it so the dragon wouldn’t spot and be threatened, he muttered an incantation at a relatively small boulder. Just as it had when we practiced, it transfigured into a small, energetic puppy. The dragon’s yellow eyes stopped staring at Cedric and tilted its scaled head towards the dog, who was barking and running up towards the edge of the arena. The Swedish Short-Snout began in its direction, the blue iridescent scales shimmering slightly as it moved. 

Using the short moment, Cedric tip-toed around the dragon while it was distracted from the egg. He got as close as possible before it finally unraveled its tail from its protective position and lumbered towards the puppy. Cedric lunged forward as quietly as possible. It was somewhat fortunate that the crowd was loud so that it hid the sound of his scrambling. This was the most crucial part of the plan. He had to get this right. 

Just as he reached forward to grab the egg, the dragon had reached towards the dog. Right as its claws touched the puppy, it reverted back to its original form: a rock. This clearly angered the beast. It roared and turned around to stare Cedric right in the face. 

Fury etched in its purple irises as it noticed the champion dangerously close to the precious egg. Spewing and raging, it leapt back to the nest. 

Finally, Cedric’s senses and adrenaline kicked in. Narrowly missing avoiding the dragon, he grabbed the egg and made a run for it. He dashed down the harsh terrain glancing up at Dumbledore when he could, as if trying to tell him to call it off and announce that he’s passed the task. 

Dumbledore looked serenely over the scene but I caught him nudge Barty Crouch. Immediately the Ministry official jumped up and pressed the wand against his neck. “Congratulations to the first Hogwarts Champion: Cedric Diggory!” 

~~~ 

I didn’t have time after to congratulate Cedric. Harry had passed the task as well, albeit much more destructively, so the celebrations had already begun in the Gryffindor Tower. Hermione and I trailed behind Harry and Ron, who were talking excitedly about the task and seemed to have patched things up. Harry was still in his tattered and dirty robes, carrying his Firebolt under one arm and holding the golden egg carefully in the other. Students stopped and stared as he walked by, trying to get a glimpse of the precious egg. 

As soon as we walked through the Fat Lady, the common room burst into cheers. Fred and George rushed forward and lifted Harry up, carrying him on his shoulders. His Firebolt was whisked away carefully. Seamus took the egg and wiped it down with a piece of cloth, making the shiny metal gleam in the warm lighting of the common room. 

Harry stood on the table, drinking in the very moment he earned. Seamus lifted the egg back to him, as if giving Harry his first born as a sacrifice. “Who wants me to open it?” Harry asked, encouraging the crowd. 

We roared in approval, urging him on. 

Harry lifted his grimy hand to the top of the egg and turned the mechanism. The egg opened into thirds. Suddenly, it began to scream. It was horrible and blood curdling. 

No one felt like celebrating after that. The crowd dissipated and everyone returned to their usual business. Harry didn’t care whatsoever and told us that he was going to put the egg away and shower and change. He walked up the stairs to the boys’ dormitories and disappeared. Hermione sat next to Ron, who pulled out his Defense Against the Dark Arts homework. She leaned in next to him and explained, moving slightly closer. 

I settled into my favorite worn leather armchair next to the fireplace with a book. Everything was back to normal, at least for now. 

The next morning, I sat at the Gryffindor table, calmly eating my toast, when Hermione walked in briskly and sat down with clear frustration. 

“That vile woman!” she said. She smacked today’s copy of The Daily Prophet on the table. The front page had two large pictures: one of Harry and Hermione springing apart from a hug and the other, much more humiliating one, was me and Cedric. I felt my cheeks flaming in embarrassment. That was supposed to be our moment and now most of the wizarding world knew about it. 

A loud laugh bubbled from the Slytherin table as Pansy Parkinson waved around a copy. Malfoy leaned over to look. He smirked and took a bite from his apple, clearly very amused. Thankfully, Krum walked over to Pansy and snatched the paper. He crumpled it up and handed it back to her, not saying a word. The table was quiet after that. 

I pried my eyes away and looked over at the Hufflepuff table. Cedric’s friends crowed at the paper. Some tried to high five him, which was objectively disgusting. He finally snapped out of his daze and, like Krum, took the paper and balled it up angrily. He stood and strode away, making his way towards me. 

The toast from earlier churned in my stomach as he sat next to me at the Gryffindor table. He nodded at Harry, who gave him a small wave before returning to his pumpkin juice. 

I scooted closer to Cedric on the bench and turned to him, folding one of my legs in so I could talk to him face to face. He did the same. 

“Look,” he said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” 

My gaze softened. “It’s not your fault. Besides, who cares, right?” I was feeling particularly brave, despite the fact that I cared very much. 

His shoulders loosened. “Yeah…Yeah, you’re right,” he hesitated. “I just wish it didn’t have to be this way.” He turned his head slightly to glance at his friends. 

I reached up and ran my fingers through his hair. “Hey,” I said. “I really don’t care what they think. Honestly, what did Rita Skeeter think was going to come out of this?” I was kind of trying to convince myself at this point but it didn’t matter. 

The breakfast crowd started to dissipate. The pleasant Saturday morning sunshine illuminated the Great Hall, drawing people outside. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had left while I was talking to Cedric. 

I took his hand, lacing his fingers through my own. “Lets go.”


	7. Yule Ball Preparations

Professor McGonagall stood stiffly in the middle of a large room. Filch sat next to a large phonograph, fiddling with the many nobs lining the wooden base. I sat with Hermione on the girls’ side while Ron and Harry were on the boys’ side. McGonagall could not have made this Yule Ball introduction any more awkward. Additionally, in her usual fashion, she reminded sternly not to humiliate and besmirch the Gryffindor name while students uttered remarks of excitement and immaturity . The boys were in no way about to be grown about this, so most of the noise came from their side. Fred and George were mostly at fault. 

Unfortunately, McGonagall singled Ron out when he whispered something to Harry. The professor asked him to help her demonstrate the waltz we were to be practicing. He gulped and ambled to McGonagall, clearly reluctant to do anything of the sort. Hermione let out a snort of laughter next to me but she looked at Ron with a sense of longing. The twins, of course, were swaying along, mischievous smiles plastered on their faces. 

McGonagall signaled for Filch to put the needle down on the spinning record. It gurgled out a scratchy waltz. After doing the dance with Ron once, she said, “Students! Pair up!” 

The boys shuffled awkwardly and the girls looked slightly hopeful, as if hoping a certain boy would ask her. Finally, Neville detached himself from the wall and walked across the room. Reaching out his hand, he asked Lavender to dance with him. With a kind but slightly embarrassed smile, she said yes. This caused all the boys to get their shit together. Harry walked to Hermione and I and asked Hemione to dance with him. She laughed and did a small exaggerated curtsey before taking his outstretched hand. 

“M’lady,” Fred said in an overly posh accent, bowing before me like a gentleman. 

I laughed and took his hand. He swept me into the center of the room, careful not to trample any of the other couples. He put his hand on my waist and I delicately placed my hand on his shoulder. We began the first steps, stepping backwards, right, forwards, and left synchronously. We tripped up a couple of times, but overall it was pretty smooth. I felt slightly more confident, especially since I was expected to dance with Cedric in front of the whole school. 

“This is so awkward,” I whispered to Fred as we maneuvered around Harry and Hermione, who were laughing like maniacs every time they messed up. 

“Well,” he whispered back, “at least we aren’t the Slytherins.” 

A picture of Pansy Parkinson waltzing with Snape popped up in my mind. I chortled into his shoulder. “Why did you put that image in my head?” 

“Also, imagine Flitwick teaching the Ravenclaws.” 

I laughed loudly. The professor might be small, but I have no doubt he would be very enthusiastic. 

McGonagall shot me a look over Ron’s tense shoulder. 

“You’re never going to let him live this down, will you?” I asked Fred. 

“Never.” 

~~~ 

End of the semester exams were still approaching, despite the tournament. I studied with Hermione in the library as often as possible. Harry and Ron, as per usual, didn’t join us in our traditional early studying ritual but we both knew that the night before exams, Hermione and I would have to help them cram. 

“Hey,” Hermione whispered across the table. We had to make sure to be as quiet as possible whenever we studied here. “Did Cedric ask you yet?” 

I shook my head. We’ve both been too busy to see much of each other recently and I hadn’t talked to him that much since the morning after the first task when Rita Skeeter put that picture of us in the Daily Prophet. 

“Has anyone asked you?” I replied. 

Hermione nodded slowly. 

My eyes widened. “Who?” 

“Viktor Krum.” she whispered. 

I gasped loudly. 

“Shhhh,” Hermione hisse. “Do you want Madam Pince to kick us out?” 

I cleared my throat. “Right, sorry. But Krum?” 

Hermione blushed. “He asked me yesterday.” 

“Well, did you say yes?” I asked eagerly. 

She hesitated. “Not yet.” 

“What? Why?” 

“I don’t know…Well, I do but…Nevermind, it’s stupid,” she tried to refocus on the parchment before her. 

“No it’s not.” Suddenly, it dawned on me. “It’s Ron, isn’t it?” 

Hermione stopped writing. “Am I that obvious?” 

I shook my head. “Only because I’ve known you for so long but don’t worry, boys are idiots, especially Ron.” 

She managed a smile. “I feel so stupid, hoping for him to ask me. He’s my best friend, I shouldn’t want him to…you know.” 

I nodded. “Hermione, listen to me. A handsome, Blugarian, Quidditch superstar asked you. Any girl would die to be in your place. But…you’re right. He isn’t Ron. But this also doesn’t determine your entire future with him. If you ask me, you’re way too good for Ron and he doesn’t deserve you. And this is the one night you deserve everything to be perfect. Go with Krum, have the night of your life, and if Ron likes you like you like him, he’ll let you know eventually.” 

Hermione nodded. “Okay,” she said. “Okay, I’ll say yes to Viktor.” 

I gave her a reassuring smile. “This will be so fun.” 

It was another hour and a half before Hermione and I finally walked out of the library, mentally exhausted from the amount of studying we decided to do for some reason. 

I shouldered my book-filled leather satchel and began to follow Hermione towards the steps to the Gryffindor Tower. Right before I was about to ask her something, I heard a voice behind me. It was Cedric. He looked slightly disheveled and tired after the long day but…he looked perfect to me. 

Hermione winked at me and turned to keep going up the stairs, leaving me behind. 

As she left, Cedric walked towards me. The hallway was empty since it was almost curfew. When Hermione was out of sight, he finally breathed out, “Hi.” 

I tried to seem nonchalant even though I knew what was coming. “Hey.” 

“I, uh…” his cheeks reddened. “I wanted to ask you something.” 

“Sure, what is it?” I asked, even though I knew exactly what he wanted to ask. 

He let out a nervous chuckle. “Are you really gonna make me say it?” 

I smiled a bit. “Well, next time, try not to be so cute when you’re flustered.” 

He laughed. “Freya, will you go to the Yule Ball with me?” 

I grinned. “Of course I will.” 

He let out a long sigh. “Oh, thank God.” He swooped me into a hug. 

I let go slowly but didn’t release his arms. “We should go before Filch kills us.” 

Neither of us did. We didn’t want to. 

Finally, he sighed and said, “Okay, we have to now.” 

He leaned down and kissed me: a proper kiss without anybody else in the room or the flashing light from Rita Skeeter’s cameraman. 

We parted ways right after, since we didn’t want to get in trouble. I clambered up the steps until I reached the Fat Lady. I muttered the password and slipped into the common room. I just wanted to tell Hermione. I knew she would be excited for me. 

Unfortunately, I heard Ron call from the leather couch next to the ornate fireplace. “Oi! Where’ve you been?” he semi-shouted across the room at me, an open bag of crisps leaving an oily residue on his fingertips. How Hermione liked him, I had no idea. 

“Um, I was studying,” I told him as I made my way to the stairs to the girls’ dormitories. 

Ron pushed his way to an upright position. “Yeah, but Hermione came back five minutes ago and you two study together.” 

His eyes widened as it dawned on him. Apparently he put two and two together. I knew I was being mean, but it’s Ron and I’ve known him for years. He tends to have his idiotic moments but he makes up for it with being kind and supportive. Most of the time. 

“Were you with…?” Ron hesitated. 

I blushed. “None of your business,” I responded bluntly. 

“C’mon, Freya, it’s obvious,” he replies jokingly. “Besides, it’s also kind of amazing that you managed to snag Cedric Diggory.” He looked a bit starstruck and impressed. “Why wouldn’t you wanna brag about it?” 

I sunk into the worn armchair opposite from him. “Uh, thank you?” I didn’t know whether to take it as an insult or not. 

Ron leaned back comfortably and extracted another crisp from the bag. He opened up a book about the Chudley Cannons and began reading. “Also,” he said while flipping through the pages, “it’s not like it’s a secret. You were on the cover of the bloody Daily Prophet!” 

My face’s current shade of red deepened. “So, Ron,” I replied, trying to change the subject, “have you asked anyone yet?” 

He jolted upwards, the book slamming shut. “No…well, I asked Fleur but it didn’t end well.” 

I vaguely remembered him returning to the common room, embarrassed and nauseous, while I was buried in my books as always. “Oh yeah. Are you planning on asking anyone else?” 

He ran his hand nervously through his flaming hair. “Maybe. I’m not sure.” 

I raised an eyebrow. “I’m not about to intervene.” 

“I know,” he mumbled. 

I stood from the cushy chair with some difficulty and picked up my bag. “Goodnight, Ron.” 

He stood as well. “Thanks, Freya.” He paused. “You know, if you were there all those times, I bet you would’ve been extremely helpful.” 

“Thanks,” I replied coldly, old memories and feelings of bitterness returning. It didn’t matter that I was best friends with Hermione or dating Cedric Diggory. At the end of the day, I was still the extra in the group and the one left behind; the fourth wheel. 

I climbed the spiral staircase to my dormitory. I was extra quiet as I changed into my sleep clothes, since it seemed like everyone else was asleep. I buried myself in the crimson quilt, falling asleep slowly, then all at once. 

~~~ 

The scratching of quills was broken up by the small whispers. Hermione and I were engrossed in our work. We had planned to go over our dress options for the Yule Ball after this study hall so we were both trying to finish our assignments as quickly as possible while still maintaining some quality. Hermione had ended up saying yes to Krum’s invitation and she has been glowing since. If there was any regret, she didn’t show it. 

Harry and Ron were whispering about who they wanted to ask to the Ball. Ron kept glancing at Hermione, maybe hoping she would be jealous but she stayed engrossed in her parchment. 

Just as we were both finishing up, I heard Ron murmur, “Well, Hermione, you’re a girl, right?” 

She looked up from her paper. “Last time I checked, yes.” 

I snorted as I scribbled out the last sentence in my potions essay. 

Ron was slightly flustered, but he said, “What if I went with you and then…?” 

Harry looked uncertain. “And I could go with Freya?” 

Ron nodded quickly, as if trying to shift the attention from himself to his friend. 

“Wait, Harry, you don’t have a date?” I asked, slightly surprised. As a champion, I thought he would have no issues finding someone to go with. 

He blushed, “I asked Cho but—” 

“She’s going with Michael Corner,” I interrupted. “Sorry, Harry. I know you liked her.” 

“Yeah, well. How about you? Do you want to go as friends?” he asked. 

“Hermione? Do you wanna go?” Ron said casually. 

“Actually—” I started. 

“Actually,” Hermione retorted and slammed her workbook shut. “We both already have dates.” She stood up and handed it to Snape, who was overseeing the study hall. 

I shot an apologetic look at the two boys before following suit and giving the professor my finished essay. 

“How can Ron be so stupid?” she exclaimed once we were out of the classroom. 

I sighed. “I know. Let’s forget about him for now, though, right?” 

“Yeah…” she said unenthusiastically. I hoped Hermione would feel more confident and happy next week at the Ball. She deserved it.


	8. The Yule Ball

“Hold still!” I exclaimed as Hermione shifted nervously in front of the mirror, my hands covered in Fleamont Potter’s Hair Potion in order to tame her wild frizz. I adjusted my stance so I could pay attention to the back of her head. When all of her curls were successfully defined, thanks to the magic of the potion, I gathered and twisted it into an elegant updo, inserting a glittering hair clip so it would hold up. 

I held up a mirror to the back so she could see. 

She squealed in a very un-Hermione-like manner. “Thank you, Freya!” 

I laughed. “Hold still, I’m not done!” I took another Fleamont Potter product resembling muggle hairspray. 

Finally, I took out my stash of makeup gifted by my aunt that I brought with me. Despite the death of my father, my family from his side constantly provided me with as many muggle experiences as possible. In this case, my aunt insisted that makeup was a necessity. And, I had to admit, it was less confusing than most magical products. 

Once I finished with Hermione’s makeup, I applied some on myself. I decided to leave my hair down but adorned with a celestial headband my mother mailed me. As I took it out of its tissue paper wrapping, a small note slipped out and floated to the wooden floor. I picked it up and unfolded it. 

“Dear Freya,” it read. “I can’t believe you’re attending the Yule Ball. It seemed like only yesterday I was saying goodbye to you as you left for your first year at Hogwarts. I wanted to give you the headband I wore when I went to the Yule Ball when I was your age. It wasn’t with your father, but I know he’s so proud of you right now. Have fun, Mum.” 

I pressed the paper to my chest, close to my heart. I refrained from letting a tear slip, though I really wanted to cry. 

Slowly, I combed my hair back and placed the headband carefully. The jeweled moon and stars shone against my dark hair. I reached up and pulled out two strands to frame my face. I took a deep breath and stood up. 

When I entered the dorm, Lavender and Parvati were busy getting ready. There was a layer of excitement and anticipation. I had to admire Parvati’s intricate dress. She was wearing the most beautiful sari in a deep plum color with golden accents. She was helping Lavender zip up a red gown. 

Hermione was looking pointedly at her own dress spread across her bed. It was a show stopping dress, with a gradient of periwinkle cascading down in ruffles. She reached down and smoothed the bodice before scooping it up and disappearing back into the bathroom. 

I shrugged and pulled my own dress, a blush with delicate flower embroidery, out of my trunk and slipped it on. I stared at myself in the mirror, adjusting the tight corset-like bodice and smoothing the long skirt. I gave myself a once over before smoothing a wrinkle in the skirt and putting on my heels. I teetered carefully towards the bathroom and knocked gently on the door. “Hermione?” 

I heard a shuffle before the knob turned, revealing Hermione, glowing and beautiful. She straightened her shoulders. “Are you ready?” she asked. 

I nodded. “Let’s go.” 

~~~ 

It was like a fairytale. The entrance hall was decorated with snowflakes and Christmas trees. The staircase was lined with magical snow and glittering tinsel. They had certainly lived up to the name “Yule Ball”. 

Hermione and I descended the stairs. Eyes turned to my friend immediately. I couldn’t blame them. She looked gorgeous and so…different. Her eyes darted around the room nervously before landing on Ron, who was wearing the most horrid yet weirdly stylish set of dress robes. He stood with Harry and Padma and Parvati. Their eyes met for a moment before I nudged her gently. She tore her eyes away from him to see Krum waiting at the bottom. With a small smile, she walked towards him and took his outstretched gloved hand. She winked at me before turning away with the Seeker. 

I stood alone on the steps, searching the crowds of students for Cedric. Finally, I spotted his golden brown hair in a gaggle of friends. I sucked in a breath when I saw him in his dress robes. He always looked good, but today he looked especially handsome. 

I noticed his friend nudge him on the side and nod towards me. He swiveled his head and laid his eyes on me. His smile radiated warmth as he strode towards me, detaching from his group. 

He stopped close in front of me. “Wow,” he murmured softly. “You look beautiful.” 

I blushed deeply and looked down, flustered. “Thanks.” One look into his eyes and all the colors of the entrance corridor heightened, the magical decorations swirling with the perfect energy of the night. Everything seemed so real, as if our years and years of friendship built up to this moment and this moment only. 

“Champions and their dates,” McGonagall called from the archway to the Great Hall, breaking the tension. “Follow me.” 

Cedric threaded his fingers through my own and led me towards the professor. We stood next to Krum and Hermione. All of the previous regret and longing from when she saw Ron was completely gone and she was laughing at something Krum said. A moment later, Fleur arrived with Roger Davies, a Ravenclaw seventh year, and Harry with Parvati. 

McGonagall instructed us to line up and enter when the music starts. As we waited, Cedric put his hand around my waist and pulled me closer, kissing the top of my head. “Hey,” he said suddenly. “Is that your mum’s?” 

I smiled. “It is. She mailed it to me yesterday.” 

He glanced at the jeweled stars and moon. “Well, it looks great.” 

“Thanks.” 

Before I could say anything else, the orchestra swelled and we walked forward, my hand on Cedric’s arm. I tried to hold my head high as we entered the Great Hall. The enchanted ceiling was snowling, the tall Christmas tree covered in picturesque snow, small floating lights illuminated the room instead of the usual candles. 

I tried not to stare in astonishment as other students watched us enter. The grandeur of it all seemed ridiculous, as if we were French monarchs entering our fifth party of the week before the revolution. 

Slowing down, the four pairs reached the dance floor: a circular area in front of a stage. We each spaced evenly. I placed my hand on Cedric’s shoulder and he placed his on my waist. The orchestra began playing the same music we practiced to in our houses. As the rhythm built, we started the waltz, moving synchronously with the other pairs. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Harry stumble a bit and Parvati leading him along. 

After a couple more seconds, others joined, dancing elegantly along. 

“Are you okay?” Cedric whispered gently. 

I was a bit surprised. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” 

He shrugged. “Just wanted to make sure.” 

I leaned into him, inhaling his cologne. “I’m great.” 

I felt him smile. “Great.” 

After the first waltz ended and pairs dispersed. The elegant glowing lights suddenly dimmed, a flurry of snow appeared on the stage. As it dissipated, it revealed The Weird Sisters. 

Immediately, the students jumped up and cheered. Instead of the beautiful fairytale from before, the dance floor became a mosh pit, squeezing us all together. 

I pushed against Cedric a bit as the crowd tightened, creating a frenzied sort of energy. I grabbed his hand and began dancing. Actually, it was more like jumping up and down. Cedric grinned widely, having the time of his life. I laughed as he spun me around quickly. 

I felt a tap on my shoulder. In the thick of the crowd, Hermione found her way to me. We danced together for a bit with Cedric and Krum hovering next to us slightly. After a while, Hermione left with Krum to get refreshments and I was left with Cedric. 

I threaded my fingers around his neck, holding him close by his undone bow tie. The music grew louder and louder and I could feel his hot breath on my forehead. I breathed in his intoxicating scent; his cologne now mixed with sweat. I feverishly pulled him closer, the energy and tension building up. I pressed my lips to his quickly as the song swelled. He kissed me back deeply, tightly holding my waist. 

We broke apart as quickly as we came together. I pressed my forehead against his, leaning up a bit. I angled my head and kissed him again, more sweetly than the last time. 

“Hey, let’s get out of here,” he whispered. 

Even though we were in the center of the crowd, Cedric took my hand and let me out. Adrenaline was coursing through me as we left it behind, stumbling past the table where Ron was sulking with Harry while Padma and Parvati were giving each other pointed looks of annoyance. 

I decided to ignore their drama for now, clutching Cedric’s hand as he led me to a hallway, the music fading into background noise. His bow tie was completely undone, hanging around his neck like an extremely short scarf. He dragged me along as I stumbled on my heels. I was starting to think that someone had spiked the drinks. Probably Fred and George. 

I giggled as he spun me around wildly in an empty hallway, the faded sounds from the Great Hall ringing throughout the castle. He pulled me close as the song changed to a slow ballad. 

Cedric leaned down and kissed me. I closed my eyes gently as I fell into it, savoring the moment. 

He grinned, pulling me in with his dazzling smile. The decorations created an icy glow that illuminated his sharp features, a mesmerizing kaleidoscope of something my twelve year old self could only dream of. 

~~~ 

I was still floating when I said goodbye to Cedric. I returned to the staircase up to the Gryffindor Tower, clutching my heels in one hand and my gathered skirt in the other. The stone floor was jarringly cool against my toes. 

I was about a third of the way up when I came across Hermione and Krum. She was crying, mascara streaked down her face. Krum, with a concerned look, was comforting her, hugging her gently as Hermione sobbed into his shoulder. He glanced up and nodded, recognizing me as one of her friends. 

My head cleared immediately. I crouched down next to her. “Hermione?” 

She lifted her head from Krum. Her gaze turned to me, lined with smudged eyeliner and mascara. 

“Is it Ron?” I asked. 

She nodded for a moment before leaning into my shoulder and letting out another sniffle. 

I lifted her up so we could return to our dormitory, threading my arm around her waist to support. 

“Thank you,” I told Krum. 

“Of course,” he said, his voice low and gruff. He took another concerned glance at Hermione. 

I nudged her and she pulled herself together enough to say, “Thank you…I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” he replied, shoving his hands into the pockets of his deep red dress robes. 

I took Hermione’s shoes from her hand slowly and we climbed back up to the dorms, a magical night definitely over.


	9. It's Complicated

I woke up the morning after exhausted. All of the girls were still in their beds, asleep, despite the alarm clock beside Hermione’s bed reading noon. I pulled the covers off, painfully twisting my sore body so I could leave my bed. I gingerly put weight on my feet, which ached from the pain of wearing heels all night. Even though I detested the thought of getting up, I hauled myself upright and put on the most lazy clothes I could muster, throwing on an old Gryffindor jumper as I left the dorm. 

Because of the Ball, most students had decided to stay over Christmas Break. However, that did not stop the corridors from being eerily quiet. Entering the Great Hall, which, despite the festivities, looked back to normal. They were serving breakfast late, as if they knew exactly how people were feeling, so I sat by myself at the Gryffindor table by myself with a book, but I wasn’t really focusing on it. I picked up a piece of toast from the platter in the middle and smeared it with strawberry jam. Every now and then, other students passed by, tired and disheveled. 

It was about ten minutes before Dean stumbled in and slumped next to me, yawing. 

“Good morning,” I said, raising my toast in greeting. 

“Ugh,” he responded before reaching over to pour himself a cup of tea. 

I took a bite of my toast and proceeded to pour some of the tea in my own mug, making sure to choose the caffeinated variety. Dean and I developed this mutual understanding not to talk to each other but just provide company. 

In another ten minutes, Hermione trudged in, her face still tearstained and all magical hair product gone, causing her hair to return to its natural poof. Somehow, she still managed to look put together, opting to wear jeans and a sweater instead of the sweats everyone else wore. She slid onto the bench across from me and straightened her back, reaching over and taking a slab of toast, smearing butter on top, and taking a bite. 

Before I could ask her about what happened with Ron, more people came and sat with us. Ron sat at a safe distance with Harry, his eyes red and long hair messy, pointedly ignoring Hermione’s piercing gaze and the aggressive way she speared a blueberry with her fork. 

The tension was finally broken when a burst of laughter was heard from the entrance to the Great Hall. I breathed a sigh of relief as Cedric and his friends stumbled in, lighting up the room with newfound energy. When I felt Cedric’s gaze on me, I tried to pretend I didn’t notice him, staring at the pages of my novel but not absorbing any information. 

He slipped onto the bench next to me and snaked an arm around my waist. I giggled as he kissed my neck, his hair tickling my jawline. “Hey,” I said through laughs, vaguely aware how tense Hermione was at the sight of us, her eyes boring through the happiness. 

I rested my head on his shoulder, breathing in the musky scent of the hand-knit sweater. Cedric gently lifted my chin and leaned down to kiss me before— 

“Ahem,” Hermione cleared her throat loudly. She took a long sip of tea before saying, “Hufflepuffs have to sit at their own table.” 

I shot her a sharp look. “Fine.” 

Cedric raised a questioning eyebrow at me. “Seriously?” 

Hermione slammed her mug down, chamomile sloshing down the side, leaving a streak of golden brown and pooling at the center of the saucer. “It’s the rules.” 

I don’t know if it was fatigue boosting my annoyance but I shot back, “What’s your problem?” 

Hermione stiffened. “It’s the rules,” she repeated. 

“I’m aware,” I said. “But nobody cares today.” I gestured at the other people sitting at the Gryffindor table, specifically the Ravenclaws that were sitting closer to the staff table with some second years. 

Hermione might have broken the teacup she was clenching if she hadn’t calmly raised it and took a long, slow sip. 

Cedric retracted his hand from my waist and set it visibly on the table, scooting away so Hermione might let him stay. 

“It’s still the rules,” Hermione replied. 

“Fine,” I replied calmly. I slammed my book shut and stood from the table. I glanced at Cedric next to me and he nodded reassuringly. I gathered my belongings and stalked off to the far end of the Hufflepuff table and set down my things in an empty area. I was alone for a moment before Cedric sat in front of me. 

“You know, you can’t exactly sit at the Hufflepuff table without me,” he smirked. 

I tried to smile but couldn’t help looking back at Hermione, upset with how we each reacted. 

~~~ 

I didn’t spend any time around her during the rest of the break. And, since Cedric had N.E.W.T.’s to study for and Harry and Ron would never take my side, I spent most of it by myself. We wordlessly communicated in our dormitory, maneuvering around each other with as little interaction as possible. Neither of us conceded. 

When school started again, I had to sit at the Gryffindor table again. I listened to Neville as he rambled on about different magical plants, and—while it was interesting—it wasn’t the same as talking to Hermione. I should have been used to this by now, but instead I felt lonelier than ever. The bitter cold lost its charm after the holidays ended, leaving me longing for the miniscule warmth of spring. However, the second task was quickly approaching, and with it, confusion over the screeching egg. 

I had scoured the library for hours with Cedric in search of any clue. I replayed the first task over and over again in my mind in hopes of discovering something new that could help but nothing occurred to me. Finally, the day the second term began, Cedric ran up to me in the Great Hall, his eyes wide and clutching his golden egg. 

“Freya,” he said, slightly out of breath. “Professor Moody just told me something that could help.” 

I moved my bag from the seat next to me and he slumped down. “What is it?” 

“Water.” 

I furrowed my brows. “What?” 

“He suggested opening it in water.” 

I shrugged. “Well, it’s worth a try.” 

He pulled me from the bench and led me from the Great Hall and towards the stairs. 

My heart jumped with excitement as one of his hands gripped mine tightly, and the other holding the egg close. 

Finally, we stopped on the fifth floor and he led me past a statue of Boris the Bewildered. 

Cedric stood in front of a door to the left of it and said, “Pine fresh.” The door swung open, revealing the most beautiful bathroom I had ever seen. Luckily, it was empty. 

Pink bubbles floated from the marble bath; a huge structure of faucets with multiple knobs and colors indicated different oils and scents available; even smooth mahogany bathroom stalls lined the walls. 

Cedric walked straight to the bath, unfazed by the beauty. He unearthed the egg from his robe and dipped it into the water. I left my post next to the sinks and crouched down next to him, peering into the soapy water. 

“Why isn’t it doing anything?” I asked. 

“I dunno,” he responded. 

“Maybe—” I said, cut off by my own thoughts. I rolled up my sleeve and dipped my hand into the water. I turned the top mechanism just as Harry had in the Gryffindor common room and it opened. Instead of a piercing shriek, a garbled melodic sound escaped the egg. 

Cedric smirked and gave me a sideways glance. “You’re a genius.” 

I scoffed. “I only did what Moody said to do. But um…what now?” 

He refocused on the egg. “Yeah, I can’t hear it.” 

Suddenly, I heard a small, tinkling cough coming from a stall. One I recognized all too well. 

“Myrtle,” I said. 

From behind the mahogany wall, Moaning Myrtle emerged, floating up and up until she landed next to a stained glass window depicting a mermaid. 

“You called?” she said coyly. 

“No,” I muttered. Cedric just looked confused. 

She twirled above the water and eyed Cedric, a small smirk emerging. “Well…don’t you think you should listen…” She sidled next to him, pressing her translucent form against him. “...Underwater?” 

He scooted away from her and turned to meet my eyes. “I mean, that’s not a bad idea.” 

I raised an eyebrow before sighing. “You’re right.” 

He glanced at me a bit before removing his robe and jumper, folding them neatly on a wooden chair. 

I averted my eyes quickly as he took off his tie and shirt, feeling my face burn up. Finally, I heard him slip into the water and I turned back. 

I sat cross legged at the edge of the basin as he dipped his head below the water and slipped under. Myrtle giggled and flew back to her toilet before disappearing with a small plop. He reached forward and opened the egg again, illuminated from the center. The glow pulsed as he listened to whatever it was saying. Finally, he bursted to the surface as it faded and closed automatically. 

“Freya, get a piece of parchment before I forget,” he coughed. 

I scrambled to my bag and extracted a scrap of paper and a contraband pen. “What did it say?” 

He leaned against the side of the bath and said, “‘Come seek us where our voices sound, we cannot sing above the ground.’ That means it has to be underwater, right?” 

I nodded. “What else?” 

“‘And while you’re searching ponder this; we’ve taken what you’ll sorely miss. An hour long you’ll have to look, and to recover what we took—’” 

“You’ll need to be underwater for an hour? How will you breathe?” 

“We can figure that out later.” 

I nodded and motioned for him to keep going. 

“‘But past an hour, the prospect’s black, too late, it’s gone, it won’t come back.’ That’s it.” 

I stared at the words on the paper. After what seemed like a while, I said, “What do you think they’ll take?” 

Cedric shook his head. “I don’t want to think of that right now.” 

I stood and put the paper safely in my bag. I took off my cardigan and stuffed it in there too. Desperate to change the subject, I asked, “How is studying going?” 

He chuckled. “Terribly without you, of course.” He sent a dazzling grin my way and brushed his wet hair from his eyes. 

I took off my shoes and stockings and dipped my feet into the bath. “How can I help you in a subject I don’t even know?” 

“You know everything, Eadylin, I don’t doubt it.” 

I sighed happily. “You make me sound much better than I am.” 

“I’m just telling the truth.” He turned and looked at the stained glass. 

“Freya…” he started. “What if they take you?” 

I was caught off guard. “What do you mean?” 

“Well, there’s nothing more valuable to me and…I can’t—” 

“I’m sure Dumbledore won’t let anyone die,” I replied. 

He turned to look me in the eye. “But what if he does?” 

I leaned down and gave him a quick but affectionate kiss. “Then don’t let me drown.”


	10. Alone

The stairs down to the Potions classroom were cold and drafty as usual. It had gotten to the point in the year when most grew tired of keeping up with work. I waited outside in the crowded hallway with other Gryffindors and Slytherins. This had to be the worst class, since it was with Snape and our rival house. 

It was even worse now that Hermione refused to talk to me. As I approached the cool stone wall that the other students waited against, she spotted me and intentionally moved the other side of the wall. Harry shot me an apologetic look before following her. 

The door to the classroom finally slammed open, breaking the awkwardness. I moved to sit in my usual seat next to Seamus and Dean. I was glad that Harry, Ron, and Hermione had left me out for once. Seamus was already fiddling with his wand when I sat down: already a bad sign.

Dean reached over and snatched it away. “Don’t wanna blow anything up yet, mate.” 

Seamus smirked and took it back, placing it on the desk gingerly. 

Before Dean could say anything else, Snape billowed down the center aisle. He stood in front of the blackboard and flicked his wand so the chalk rose and scratched out the new topic we would be working on. He scanned the room quickly before stiffly turning to his cauldron. “Today,” he started monotonously, “we will begin the Pepperup Potion.” The chalk lifted once more and started listing the properties of a bicorn horn.

The entire class seemed to scramble to their bags to withdraw some parchment and a quill. Snape paused for a moment and gave an irritated glance to the Gryffindors, completely ignoring the rabble from Malfoy’s group on the other side of the room. 

The class lulled on until Snape announced the end of the lesson and left us to pack up and leave. 

As I messily put my notes in my bag, Harry, Ron, and Hermione passed behind me. 

“You have to figure out the egg, Harry. The second task is less than a month away…” I heard Hermione say before they left the dungeon. 

I looked down guiltily, remembering how Professor Moody had helped Cedric. I still wanted to help them, despite how they were treating me. I shoved the thought from my mind as I climbed the steps back up from the dank classroom. I weakly replaced it with trying to come up with topics for the pile of homework I still had to do. I hated how, despite my boyfriend being in a life-threatening tournament, my biggest concern was the impending Transfiguration essay I still had to complete on top of the lesson McGonagall had scheduled for Malfoy. 

I spent my lunch at the library alone, trying to focus on the essay and flipping through my copy of  _ Intermediate Transfiguration _ . I scribbled mindless notes to pass time, the lesson slipping in and out as I refreshed myself on material I could use today. Since we started the semester on turning a goldfinch into a snitch, I needed to scrounge up my notes from class.  _ Impossible _ , I thought as I swished my wand again, trying to perfect the movement. I must have stared at my notes forever before the clock rang, signaling lunch was over, and tirelessly hoping that Malfoy wouldn’t make fun of me if I got it wrong. 

~~~

I dragged myself away from the rarely deserted common room as 8:30 approached and scurried down the moving stairs, jumping over the trick step on instinct. The corridors felt unwelcoming without the usual crush of students rushing to make it in time for dinner My footsteps echoing through the hall as I entered the empty classroom.

Professor McGonagall’s leftover notes were still written in neat cursive on the chalkboard, her books and quill neatly sitting on the right side of her desk, leaving me plenty of room.

I set down my half-open bag and took out my textbook and wand before walking over to the bird cages sitting in the corner of the classroom. I checked the clock, which fortunately read ten minutes til, meaning I still had time to practice. I gently opened the latch and reached inside, slowly taking out a goldfinch. The friendly animal sat calmly on my finger as I closed the wrought iron and placed it on the desk. 

Repeating the wand movement over and over again in my head, I set it down on the table. It hopped around, ruffling its yellow feathers. I picked my wand back up and pointed it at the bird. “ _ Mutatio Auream _ ,” I said, gracefully swishing my wand upwards. The bird inverted on itself before turning into an ornate golden snitch, with gleaming wings and carved spherical body, just as it should be.

I let out a sigh of relief before chaos ensued. The snitch spread its wings and took off, zipping chaotically across the high arched ceiling. I frantically ran under it, trying to snatch it from the air, but I was no seeker. 

Fortunately, right as it was heading to the open doorway, Malfoy walked through.

“Ow!” he said right as it hit his forehead. “What the fuck?!”

He grabbed the snitch from above him and promptly threw it at me. The golden wings were now tucked in, as it was caught.

I laughed as he rubbed the angry red mark above his eyebrows. “Just practicing.”

He set down his bag on the far desk. “If that’s you practicing, then I think I should be scared of what you’ll teach me.”

“ _ Actually _ , Malfoy, I did the spell correctly, I just don’t know how to catch a snitch.”

He scoffed. “Clearly.”

~~~

It took right up to 10 PM for Malfoy to get the spell even remotely right. Even then, the snitch had a couple bright yellow feathers. 

He turned it back and shoved the bird into its cage. “When will I actually need to turn a stupid bird into a snitch?” 

I shrugged. “You need it to pass.”

“Wow thanks.” 

“I’m just saying, it’s not like you have the space to just ignore the lessons.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

I frowned at his sudden aggressiveness. I hesitated before finally saying, “Nothing. Nevermind.”

I slammed my textbook shut and pushed it into my bag. 

He stood from the desk he was sitting on. “No. Clearly you have something to say.”

“Leave it, Malfoy,” I said, trying to diffuse the situation that he clearly was trying to escalate further for no reason. 

“Fine!” he practically yelled and rushed out of the classroom, slamming the door behind him. 

“Hey!” I tried to shout after him, but he was already gone. He left his stupid fancy black leather satchel behind. 

“Whatever…” I muttered. I collected my things and his, and left towards the Gryffindor tower. It was too close to curfew to try to go down to the dungeons to try to return it so I decided to go tomorrow morning, even though that would force me to actually eat breakfast in the Great Hall.

~~~

The Gryffindor table was filled with the usual morning rush. I stood awkwardly in the entryway holding two bags: my own and Malfoy’s. I spotted Ron’s flaming hair first, followed by Hermione’s trademark frizz and made a mental note to avoid them at all costs. Once I heard a loud laugh from the Hufflepuff table, I knew to go there after. 

I took a deep breath and strode to the Slytherin table. Anxiety coursed through me as I approached his clique. I was conflicted between wanting to curl inwards or hold my head high. I shook off the doubts and stood in front of them.

Pansy’s withering stare only made me annoyed. “What do you want?” she sneered.

I raised an eyebrow at her, confidence suddenly emerging. I flicked my gaze away to Draco, who seemed suddenly very interested in his bowl of cereal. I raised the heavy bag from my shoulder and tossed it onto the table, making a loud bang and the contents spilling across the table. 

Heads turned in my direction.  _ So much for going unnoticed _ , I thought. 

Malfoy snapped his head towards me. “What the hell, you filthy mudblood?!” he practically yelled and motioned for Crabbe and Goyle to pick up his things. 

“Next time, don’t leave your stuff,” I smirked. Noticing Pansy’s fuming expression, I winked at him, laying it on thick. 

I felt like I was on top of the world. As I turned to walk away, I heard Pansy stand up and walk towards me. 

“Hey! Stay away from him,” she snarled, making sure only I could hear. 

I let out a small laugh. “No worries.”

I turned on my heel and walked to the Hufflepuff table, making sure I could still feel her eyes boring into the back of my head. 

Cedric was mid-bite when I reached him but I didn’t care. I shot him a blazing look as I pulled him up by the collar and kissed him—hard. One of his friends wolf-whistled. I grinned into his lips and pulled away. “Thanks,” I whispered.

“Anytime.”

~~~

Thursdays were always the worst. I had to climb to the Divination classroom right after Potions in the span of a measly ten minutes. 

“Freya!”

I ignored the familiar voice. After the events of this morning, I doubted she had anything flattering to say. 

Unfortunately, Hermione caught up. “I’m talking to you,” she said pointedly. 

I kept walking, pushing through people going the other way. “So talk.”

She wrinkled her brow but followed me. “Why did you do that? This morning, I mean.”

“Wanted to prove something.”

She scoffed. “You had to act like a slut in order to prove something?”

I stopped in my tracks. “Excuse me?”

Hermione looked slightly guilty but she held her head high. “It’s not like you.”

“Well, frankly, you don’t really know me at all,” I replied.  _ And it’s not like you care anyways _ , I wanted to continue. 

Hermione shot a judgmental look before turning away. 

What was it with her and the inability to mind her own business? She never knew when it was too much.  _ What does she know?  _ I thought angrily. It’s not like she isn’t stringing both Ron and Krum along, keeping one only to make the other jealous. Showing PDA was hardly worthy of slut-shaming. But Hermione was hurting, I had to remind myself. She couldn’t help but lash out when she saw me having everything she wanted. But does she have to take it out on me? I was always there when she needed to be mad, like a built in emotional punching bag. And I was beyond done. 


	11. The Second Task

It was the day before the second trial and Cedric had officially entered panic mode. I tried reassuring him a billion times on how hard he practiced. The spell was complicated for me, but for Cedric, it was a piece of cake. However, apparently messing it up once compared to the many successes constituted for a late night trip to the library, checking and double checking the textbooks for any extra tips and pointers on the Bubble-Head Charm and how to increase the duration of the spell. While the concepts in the books were way beyond my level, Cedric seemed to be burning through them, speeding through runes and markings as if he’s spent fifty years specializing in these topics. It was a sound reminder of how good of a wizard he was and how deserving. 

I vaguely heard Harry, Ron, and Hermione a couple shelves over, cramming like Cedric and I were. The whispered chatter was interrupted by the familiar clack of McGonagall’s boots and commanding voice, and died down completely as she walked closer to our stack. 

I absentmindedly flipped through a book I grabbed from Cedric’s ever-climbing pile, my mind blank and tired. 

“Miss Eadylin,” I heard Professor McGonagall say. As I look up, Hermione and Ron avert their gaze, seemingly very interested in the origins of Latin incantations lining the shelves. 

“Follow me,” the professor commands. 

“Wait,” I reply, turning towards Cedric, leaning down, and giving him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be right back,” I tell him. 

He nods vaguely, his dark circle-adorned eyes glued to the page and ink scribbles. 

I left my stuff with him and followed. The hallways were now empty as we climbed up in the direction of the headmaster’s office, portraits gossiping as we passed. Ron and Hermione whispered furiously between one another, their friendship clearly mended and whole once again. 

I pushed down the need to roll my eyes and came to a stop in front of the large eagle gargoyle. 

“Sugar quills,” McGonagall said. The ugly stone turned, revealing a spiral staircase leading up to the office. 

I barely had any time to process the astrolabe on the shelf, or the huge amount of trophies (one of which was made from a purple iridescent crystal), or anything else peculiar about Dumbledore’s office, before I was shoved onto a bench with a small blonde girl along with Ron and Hermione. 

Before us stood Madame Maxime, Karkaroff, Dumbledore, and Percy Weasley. They all looked at us with mixed pity and resolve, but ready to pounce at any moment. 

I barely heard the spell before passing out. 

~~~

The first thing I could feel was the freezing water. Rushing all around me as I broke the surface, gasping for air. The soaked material of my robe weighed me down as I flung my arms around, desperate to stay afloat. When I felt the familiar touch of Cedric’s hands on my waist, pulling my forward, I stopped struggling and let him carry me. 

_ Did I somehow fall into the lake?  _ I thought. I had barely any memory of what happened in the headmaster’s office before. 

Arms reached forward and grabbed me when we finally reached the dock. Someone threw a warm towel around my shoulders and I pulled it tighter around myself, trying to shake the chill and disorientation in my mind. When the wooden deck finally came into focus, I willed myself to look around. The stands were filled with people I didn’t care about, none of the other champions were back yet, meaning…

“You won!” I exclaimed, throwing my arms around Cedric, causing the towel to fly off. 

He opened his mouth to reply before the water before us shifted again, bubbling slightly, and finally bursting, spitting out a soaked Hermione and Krum, in the midst of transfiguring back to human from shark. Hermione seemed much better than I did. As she swam back, I reached out a hand to help her on to the dock. I grabbed an enchanted towel and threw it around her. She shivered and gave me a small smile. A silent truce. 

We curled up together, snatching an extra towel and sitting on a bench behind the commotion. Harry still hadn't arrived. Fleur was looking intently at the water, desperately trying to get Dumbledore’s attention and rambling about her sister. 

He kept looking serenely at the water, not even glancing at her. I wanted to stand up and yell at him with her. How could he be so calm when Fleur’s world was clearly falling apart. I recalled the line in the golden egg’s song: “We’ve taken what you’ll sorely miss…” 

The pit in my stomach grew. Dumbledore was just letting this tournament happen. A sinister thought brushed through my mind,  _ What if they’re actually dead?  _ The clock had surpassed the hour mark, Harry wouldn’t be prepared to stay for longer. 

“There they are!” Seamus hollered. 

Hermione and I rushed to the front of the deck, where we saw Ron helping a small blonde girl swim towards us. Harry was nowhere to be seen. 

We both reached forward to help them up but as we were about to hand them some towels, Fleur engulfed her sister, kissing her cheek profusely. 

The water bubbled again, like it did for Krum and Hermione, before spitting out Harry, throwing him onto the deck, hard. Fleur hugged him as well, thanking him. 

The familiar warmth of Cedric’s hand slithered around my waist. “Are you okay?” he whispered. 

I hated how this stupid tournament became the only thing in our lives and how they had taken me into the bottom of the lake without a second thought. I couldn’t believe Dumbledore let it happen. 

After it was announced that Cedric won, we crossed the lake in the same boats we came to Hogwarts in our first year. I sat in front of the flickering fire in the Gryffindor common room, feeling the heat dance across my skin, but never sever the chill still in my bones.

~~~

Harry and Ron didn’t ask why I was sitting with them again at breakfast and clearly didn’t care. _The_ _Daily Prophe_ t graciously did not print any scandalous Rita Skeeter articles, thankfully, but instead the Great Hall was buzzing with concerned chatter of the news of Barty Crouch’s new mysterious illness that had befallen him. Percy Weasley had started taking all of the Ministry official’s tasks that have to do with the tournament, including judging. 

No one acted as if anything was out of the ordinary. However, my mother wrote me a letter, warning that Barty Crouch had never in his life taken a day off work and implored me to stay vigilant. Hermione nodded vaguely at the letter while Harry and Ron looked extremely uncomfortable, giving each other sidelong glances. I sighed and put the letter away, deciding that nothing could be done.

It wasn’t until the next week, when owls poured in through the windows of the Great Hall, as per usual, carrying copies of  _ The Daily Prophet _ , that I knew what she meant.


End file.
